


Never Quite As It Seems

by yousee_saros (all_ivvant)



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Los Angeles Dodgers, M/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23021800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_ivvant/pseuds/yousee_saros
Summary: Cody's stuck in a time loop, experiencing the same day, and the same game seven, over and over again. He's not sure how he even got stuck in this loop in the first place.
Relationships: Cody Bellinger/Chris Taylor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11
Collections: the good baseball boys of summer 2019





	Never Quite As It Seems

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [sophiahelix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/pseuds/sophiahelix) in the [boysofsummer19](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/boysofsummer19) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> A player on a losing team goes through a Groundhog Day scenario until he finally gets it right (feel free to use this to correct the aggravating playoffs/World Series loss of choice)
> 
> Jeez, sorry it took me so long to finish this damn thing. hope y'all like it anyways!!!
> 
> title is from Dreams by The Cranberries

_0_

Cody misses the catch, and fumbles it as he throws it to second, the runner just barely making it on base. Shit. He shakes his hand, squinting up at the scoreboard. It’s game seven against the Brewers, and they only have a one run lead right now. 

It could go ass up in a matter of seconds, and Cody needs to get his act together. He really wants to get back to the World Series and it isn’t gonna happen if he can’t catch a damn ball. 

He looks across the field, to third, where Chris is standing. He looks back at Cody and smiles, before snagging a ball out of the air and tossing it towards first with ease. 

He tags out the runner on first, and it ends the inning, and they head back into the dugout, Cody one of the last ones in. He grabs some water, chugging it, as he scrambles to find his bat. It’s in the dugout somewhere. 

It’s fuckin’ cold, and he shivers, picking up his bat and helmet. He bats second, and he can feel every nerve in his body. 

Cody’s hands shake as he goes up to bat, but when the ball connects with the bat, he knows it’s gone. He rounds the bases, grinning, the tension that was in the air finally simmering down. He’s got a feeling they’re gonna win.

_1_

The next morning, Cody wakes up disoriented, fumbling to get his alarm. He knocks his phone off the bedside table, and curses. Turning off his alarm, he can’t help but feel like something might be wrong. He’s pretty sure they all got drunk off their asses in the clubhouse after the game. 

Despite this, Cody doesn’t have a headache, and he’s pretty sure Chris crashed in his room. However, the other side of the bed is empty and he’s not even close to nauseous. 

When he checks the date, he absolutely knows something is wrong. He swears he was playing game seven last night, but he’s awake and it’s the day of. Maybe he dreamed it. Probably stress. He used to do that when he was younger, and stressed out about games that mean a lot less than this one does. 

He gets up, and gets dressed, and goes downstairs, getting breakfast and sitting down next to Chris, like usual. He’s got a soft boiled egg and some sausage and toast, and he looks up when Cody sits down. 

“Hey Cody! You sleep alright?” He asks around a mouthful of toast. Cody nods, picking at his omelette. He’s not really sure what to say, because Chris would never believe him. There’s no way he played game seven last night. It’s not possible. He’s pretty sure it was a dream, but he’s still not sure. 

“Actually, there’s something that’s been bothering me. I dreamed last night that we played game seven. I think we won, but I don’t quite remember.” He tells Chris, picking apart his breakfast. 

“Well, that seems like a good omen. Your dreams do tend to come true after all.” Chris says, after a moment’s relative silence. Cody nods and goes back to his omelette, a nagging feeling lingering in the back of his mind.

***

He realizes, during batting practice, that he’s repeating the day. He knows he heard Kersh tell Manny that it’s okay. Everyone’s a little nervous, itching to get to a second World Series. At least they’re not gonna be playing Houston for the second time in a row.

Cody’s hands slip on his bat, and he connects with the ball, does a few more practice swings, and heads to the clubhouse. He’s still trying to shake the nerves out of his system, and batting practice really didn’t help with that. 

They’ve got a game to win, and Cody has no clue if he’s going to loop again. 

He ends up at first this game, and butchers a throw that ultimately costs them the game. Shit.

The locker room is quiet as they slowly pack their things, while Milwaukee parties in their own clubhouse. The sounds of loud dance music rumbling through the floor and shaking the ground makes Cody feel sick to his stomach. It’s all his fault. 

This fucking sucks and Cody almost cries on the bus back to their hotel room. Chris is sitting next to him, furiously wiping his eyes when he thinks Cody can’t see. Cody wants to pull him in for a hug, but he’s pretty sure he’ll start sobbing if he even tries to comfort Chris. 

God, he prays that the day starts over because he can’t stand to see the team like this, because it was his fault they lost. 

_2_

When Cody wakes up the next morning, he’s so thankful that the day’s repeated again. They can’t lose again, not if Cody can help it. For breakfast this time, Cody eats something new, and it surprises Chris. 

“Since when do you eat omelettes? Where’s your crepe? Are you sick?” He asks, pummeling Cody with a barrage of questions. Cody rolls his eyes, and savors the taste. It’s not that big of a deal. 

“Well, thought I’d try something new. Need some protein, I think.” Cody tells Chris, wincing as his fork scrapes against his plate. Chris shakes his head, and sips at his orange juice. 

He honestly can’t remember the last time he saw Chris drinking orange juice, but he’s just gonna roll with it. Cody’s pretty sure Chris hates it, something about how he always brushes his teeth before he eats breakfast. Maybe it’s the pulp.

Cody steals a piece of bacon from Chris’ plate while he isn’t looking. 

Before the game, Cody’s got a few hours to kill, so he decides that it doesn’t hurt to maybe do some research. There’s not much out there regarding looping timelines, other than Groundhog Day.

One site mentioned something about a mental barrier blocking the person experiencing the loop, but there’s nothing else. Cody’s got no clue what mental barrier there would be, or what would even count as one, anyways.

He sighs and sets his phone down. Much more important things than worrying about a time loop. He’s got baseball to play.

***

As game time rolls around, Cody can’t help but notice that everyone around him is nervous except for him. Cody knows that he’s probably gonna repeat the day, so it doesn’t bother him too much. He understands though, why everyone around him is so stressed.

He watches Chris roll up his socks, and sees Kiké adjusts his belt. His eyes linger on Joc tying his cleats and Yasiel is busy checking the grip on his bat. He watches his teammates get ready to play a rubber game, one that he’s already played twice before. 

It’s like he can see the nervous tension simmering in the clubhouse, like the mirages that shimmer on the road when it gets hot. He’s not sure if he likes it. 

When they finally take the field, Cody isn’t sure if he’s ready to face another loss. The game seven they lost last night, that only he remembers, is burned into his brain. His team is such a loud, brilliant, shining group of guys, and it stung to see them all so dim. Cody knows that if he can just get out of this loop, they can go on to win it all. 

He watches as a ball flies over his head and into the stands behind him. It’s the first pitch of the game, and he grimaces. He hopes this isn’t going to be a repeat of last night. 

They manage to pull off a nail biter of a win, the last out barely caught by Yasi. Cody makes sure to give him a high five and a hug as they walk off the field and into the ensuing chaos of their game seven celebration.

_3_

When Cody wakes up the next morning, he’s expecting to feel immensely hungover, because he knows he slammed as much alcohol as he did after the first game seven win, probably. Cody doesn’t even have a headache. 

The glass of water he left for himself isn’t on the nightstand either. The cup he grabbed is still sitting on the table in his room, the little paper wrapper still over the top. 

He grabs his phone where he left it plugged in, lighting up as he lifts it. Cody checks the date, which reveals that he’s looped again. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Cody drops his phone on the nightstand with a loud groan, running a hand through his hair. Holy fucking hell. He wants to scream, but he’s got neighbors on either side and Cody knows better than not to do that. 

He finally gets up, and shuffles into the bathroom. He’s gonna have to stop drinking after any wins, because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen if he finally gets out of this loop. His face looks no different than usual, which Cody’s probably not going to see any aging in his face. Unless he’s stuck in this loop for eternity. Which he hopes doesn’t happen. 

He goes downstairs, and finds Chris, exactly where he’s been for the last four days of this loop. Cody’s gotta tell him, at some point. Not at breakfast though. 

“Mornin’ bud,” Chris says, as Cody sits down next to him. He’s got a bagel and some eggs and bacon this morning, and Cody manages to sneak a piece of bacon away. Chris won’t miss it. 

“Hey, you ready to play tonight? I’m kind of nervous.” Cody admits, as Chris spreads cream cheese over half of his bagel. It looks like it has onions in it. 

“You’re nervous? That’s surprising, at least, for you. It’ll be okay. Not like we haven’t done this before.” Chris says, which strikes him as something odd. Cody knows he’s been looping, but has Chris been too? 

“I mean, the game has big implications.” Cody replies, as he picks at the crêpe he ended up with. He’s gotta pick more exciting foods. If he gets stuck in this loop forever, he’s not sure what he’ll do. 

“Yeah, but you’ve got this. That’s for sure.” Chris says, although it comes out more mangled than he probably intended it to, talking around a piece of bacon. He pats Cody on the back, drinking the rest of his milk to wash down the last particles of food. 

“I guess. Actually, I need to talk to you. Can I come up a little later?” Cody asks, as Chris gets up to take care of his empty plate. 

“Yeah, it’s fine with me. You know where to find me.” He replies, before going off to deposit his dishes.

***

Cody ends up at Chris’s door a little while later, knocking on the door. He’s on the other side of the hotel from where Cody’s at, which loops in a weird octagon. He figured that out when he looped the hotel twice, almost lost in a maze of blank white walls.

Chris opens the door a few moments later, hair wet with a towel draped around his neck. 

“Did you take a shower?” Cody asks, right after he realizes Chris also changed clothes. Usually he’s taken a shower before he does anything else. It’s not like him to change up his routine, especially not before a big game like tonight’s. 

“Yeah, come on in.” Chris replies, letting Cody into his room. Chris really isn’t one to spread out around his hotel room, the complete opposite of Cody. His own hotel room is a bit of a mess, clothes thrown everywhere. He’s probably already lost a pair of socks. 

“So what did you wanna talk about? Is something wrong?” Chris asks, as Cody sits down on the bed. The bedspread is rough, the same plain white that Cody’s is in his room. 

“This might sound a little crazy but I think I might be caught in a time loop. I’ve replayed game 7 three times in the past three days.” Cody says, looking up at Chris, who seems to stop in his tracks. 

“You’re caught in a what?” He asks, turning back around to look at Cody. 

“A time loop. You know, like Groundhog Day?” Cody says, picking at the bedspread. Chris looks like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Holy shit. You’re stuck in one too?”

***

As it turns out, finding out Chris is stuck in the same time loop as Cody, doesn’t change everything as much as it seems like it would. They still play the game, but this time, it’s like there’s something between the two of them.

Their secret sits between the two of them, the elephant in the dugout. Chris won’t stop fiddling with his batting gloves, his armbands, and even the paper cup he’s holding isn’t spared from his twitchy fingers. Cody’s never seen him like this before. 

Soon enough, everyone in the dugout begins to get fidgety, because the game turns into a pitcher’s duel. Kershaw even pitches a no-hitter into the 7th inning. But it’s a home run from Yasi that ends the game, 1-0, Los Angeles. 

The dugout explodes, after the final out is caught, and Cody loses Chris in all the chaos. 

_4_

There’s a loud pounding on his door, waking Cody up. It’s at least an hour before his alarm, but he gets out of bed anyways. Looking through the peephole, he sees Chris standing there, arms crossed over his chest. 

Cody opens the door, and Chris pushes his way inside, 

“We’ve looped again.” He says almost immediately after Cody shuts the door. He suppresses a yawn as Chris flops down on the bed. 

“Well what can we do about it? I don’t know anything about this stuff and I’m betting neither do you.” Cody replies, sitting down on the bed next to Chris. 

“How long have you been stuck in the time loop?” Chris asks, changing the subject. 

“What?”

“How long have you been stuck in a time loop? I think I’ve been stuck in a loop for about,” Chris pauses to count the days on his fingers, “two weeks now? Maybe a little less, I’ve seriously lost count at this point.” 

Cody sits there for a minute, trying to remember how many games he’s played now. It’s got to be at least four at this point. He’s not lost count yet.

“I think it’s four? We haven’t played tonight’s game so I guess today’s five now. I don’t really know. Nothing changes much, except the score.” Cody answers, after a moment’s silence. The only sound is the steady hum of the air condition, the sunlight filtering in through the gap in the curtains

“Well, however many times we’ve repeated this day, I still don’t think the loop’s been broken. I guess we gotta play tonight’s game and see what happens. I’ll see you at breakfast.” Chris says, getting up off the bed. 

He makes his way out of Cody’s hotel room, and it’s like he was never there at all. 

_5_

Cody’s not really surprised when the day loops again. It’s like the universe is giving them another chance after the embarrassing loss that happened yesterday. The Brewers destroyed them, hanging 8 runs on them in the third, and the team never recovered. 

Unfortunately, that means that the time loop still hasn’t been broken. Cody’s starting to get tired of the breakfast spread in the hotel they’re staying at, and Chris seems to be getting more and more annoyed. Cody feels like his body is slowly breaking down, the time loop screwing him up more than he anticipated. 

He’s in the clubhouse a few hours before the game, looking over the lineup, when Chris comes over. Cody half jumps out of his skin when Chris puts a hand on Cody’s shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ, warn somebody before you sneak up on them like that.”

“Sorry. Do you have a second to talk?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Cody replies, setting down the lineup card. 

“Not here, c’mon.” Chris says, nodding his head towards the clubhouse door. Cody nods, and gets up, following Chris into the bowels of Miller Park. 

Chris doesn’t say anything until they’re somewhere in a back closet, full of equipment that probably hasn’t seen the light of day since the day the park opened. Cody sneezes, bumping into a stack of cleaning supplies. Chris flips on the light overhead, as thousands of dust particles float through the air around them.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Cody asks, as soon as he stops sneezing.

“The time loop, I think I figured out what caused it. So you know how you won that MVP trophy?” Chris says, and Cody raises an eyebrow. He won what?

“No, I don’t, but continue.”

“Okay, well when we celebrate the pennant, you lost your trophy. If we win tonight, and you win it, please make sure to hold onto it, okay? The first night before I got sucked into the time loop, you lost it, and I’m pretty sure that’s why we got stuck in the first place.” Chris explains, and Cody realizes that he towers over Chris a lot more than he thought. It’s only four inches, but them being in close quarters seems to make it a lot more obvious. 

“I can hold onto the trophy, if we win.” Cody says, realizing Chris had stopped talking. 

“Good.” He says, slapping Cody on his back.

***

The game goes better than the game the night before, but Cody ends up not winning the MVP trophy like Chris said he would. He’s pretty sure someone else ends up with it, but Cody’s past the point of remembering, almost blackout drunk. He wasn’t planning on drinking but Chris handed him a bottle and the rest was history.

He hopes that they don’t loop again, for their livers sakes. 

_6_

Unfortunately, Cody’s not that lucky. He wakes up the next morning to the same alarm, and he just glares at the ceiling for a solid ten minutes, trying to decide if he should even get out of bed at this point. If he doesn’t, he wouldn’t have to play baseball. 

Cody realizes, that if he’s stuck in this time loop, then he could possibly just not play tonight’s game. He knows that he shouldn’t but Cody really just wants to not play tonight. He’s sick and tired of this time loop, playing the same game over and over again. 

So Cody decides that he’s just gonna leave, at least for today. So he gets out of bed, gets dressed, and leaves the hotel, not telling anyone that he’s left. 

He wanders around downtown Milwaukee for a while, ending up at an indoor farmer’s market. His phone begins to light up with texts from the team asking him where he is when the bus leaves for the ballpark. Cody just puts his phone on airplane mode, and pokes at the food he bought, sitting on the second floor. 

He can see down into the market below, at the table he’s sitting at, and can see out the large windows at the city around him. He could really just leave it all, not play baseball anymore. Cody’s not going to, but he sees the appeal of just settling in one city, never having to travel like he does, playing 162 games and in the playoffs, February to October, never stopping for long. 

He’d miss baseball, and Chris, if he decided to go that route permanently.

***

Cody ends up never going back to the hotel, waiting the game out, checking in on it every so often The Brewers win this one, and for once, Cody’s not in the clubhouse, watching his teammates react to the loss.

Cody ends up walking along the riverfront, running his fingers over the bronze ducklings that line the bridge across the water, and stopping by the bronze statue of the Fonz. He’d never been in Milwaukee long enough to sight see, but he goes to just about everything he could think of. 

Now he’s sitting at the water’s edge, dangling his feet over the concrete channel. He looks into the water below, after scrolling through Twitter. His newsfeed is the same, everyone talking about how he’s gone missing. 

He opens the texts from his parents, from Chris, from the team group chat, but never says anything. He’s fine with radio silence right now. It won’t matter in the morning. 

_7_

Just as Cody thought, he wakes up the next morning to the same alarm, no angry coaches beating down his door because of what he did the day before. Because no one remembers what happens, except for Chris. But even Chris doesn’t come by, and Cody gets up eventually, getting dressed. 

He stands there in the shower, staring up at the ceiling, staring down at the tile, just staring. But he has a game to play, and he can’t do what he did yesterday again.

***

“Cody, where did you go yesterday?” Chris asks, keeping his voice low as they sit in the clubhouse, getting ready for the game. Cody looks over at Chris, who’s tying the laces on his cleats.

“I didn’t wanna play the same game again, and needed a break, so I went and wandered around Milwaukee for a little bit. I bought cheese but it disappeared when I woke up this morning.” Cody says, frowning. It was good cheese too, and he’s mad thinking about it. Even the receipt disappeared from his coat pocket, so he doesn’t even know what kind of cheese he bought. 

“Oh, well, okay.” Chris says, going back to finish tying his laces. Cody leans back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling again. This time, he notices that the ceiling of the visitor’s clubhouse has got stuff written on it, right where the wall meets the ceiling. There’s the usual graffiti, but Cody sees something else. 

The letters from the graffiti seem to rearrange themselves, right in front of Cody’s eyes. The letters spell out the words KISS HIM, in bold, black marker. Cody blinks, and the words vanish, as if they were never there. He’s still not even sure if he saw them. 

He doesn’t have much time to ponder on what exactly that meant, or who exactly he’s supposed to kiss, because the game starts shortly afterwards, and Cody runs upstairs to the dugout, glove in hand. He’s ready to get this game over with.

***

The game goes like this. The Dodgers win it, 5-1, thanks to Milwaulkee’s bullpen practically imploding. Both Yasi and Cody hit home runs, and Chris makes this gorgeous catch, and Cody’s positive that that’s why they win. It’s mass chaos, as everyone comes running out of the dugout, jumping around together, celebrating the pennant win.

Everyone’s yelling and screaming as they end up back in the clubhouse, the clear tarps covering everything, to keep from soaking the clubhouse in cheap beer and champagne. 

Cody ends up being awarded the MVP award, and he sets it down with his stuff, and finds Chris in the mass of bodies. He’s grinning from ear to ear, holding two bottles of beer. 

“Dude, we did it! Again!” He says, laughing at the joke. Cody can’t help but giggle, because it’s true, they did it again. They won another fucking game seven. 

“I got the MVP award, like you said I would.” Cody says, practically yelling over the loud music pulsing through the clubhouse.

“Where did you put it?” Chris asks, handing Cody another beer. He’s already drank two, but he takes it anyways, and watches as Chris downs the entirety of his own beer. 

“With my stuff. I promise I won’t lose it!” Cody says, and loses Chris for a few hours afterwards, a swirl of people pulling them apart.

***

Eventually, they end up back at the hotel, Cody back in his room. He’s a little drunk, and isn’t expecting a knock at his door. But there is one, and when he opens the door, he sees Chris standing there, about as drunk as Cody is. He’s holding an unopened bottle of champagne, grinning up at Cody and holding it aloft.

“Look what I found!” He says, that same grin from earlier plastered on his face. Cody lets him in, shutting the door behind him.

Cody watches as Chris pops the seal off the bottle, opening the bottle with only a little fizzing. He takes a swig from the bottle, and hands it over to Cody, who’s sitting on the end of the bed. They pass the bottle back and forth for a little bit, finishing it off. 

Cody flops over on the bed, legs hanging off the side a little. He’s shirtless, just wearing sweats. He took off the NL champions shirt hours ago, not wanting to stay in that sticky mess. 

Chris is sitting up, still holding the empty bottle of champagne. Cody remembers the words he saw in the clubhouse, still not sure who it was talking about. 

Cody watches as Chris sets the bottle down, and looks over at Cody.

“What is it?” He asks, looking up at Chris. He has a weird expression on his face, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then, Chris leans down, and kisses Cody, a soft, hesitant kiss. Chris tastes like champagne and cheap beer, and Cody almost doesn’t have enough time to react to Chris kissing him

Cody’s heart is beating in his chest, as he reaches up, and pulls Chris back down for another kiss, this one a little more firm, and much more confident.

***

Cody wakes up the next morning, before his alarm. He’s got a monster of a headache, which is unusual. He turns his head, and sees Chris asleep next to him. He’s snoring, and Cody really doesn’t want to wake him up. Reaching over for his phone so he can turn the alarm off, he realizes something.

The date’s changed. 

“Holy shit,” He whispers, setting his phone back down. He rolls over, and shakes Chris’s shoulder. It takes him a moment to wake up, but he brushes Cody’s hand off after a few moments. 

“What? What is it?” Chris asks, yawning.

“We’re not stuck in a time loop anymore, it’s sunday.” Cody says, and Chris’s eyes get wide. 

“You mean we fixed it?” He asks, and Cody nods. Chris sits up, the comforter pooling around his waist, and dragging it halfway off Cody. 

“Dude, it’s fucking freezing.” Cody grumbles, as Chris looks down at him.

“Cody, we’re not stuck in that fucking time loop. Holy shit.” He says, and Cody nods. Chris gets out of bed, and Cody realizes that he’s not wearing any clothes at all. There’s a couple of dark spots on his neck, and they’re mouth shaped. _Oh._

“Hey Chris, what did we do differently this time?” Cody asks, peeking under the covers. He’s naked too. Cody looks up when the bed dips underneath Chris’s weight. He’s holding two glasses of water. 

“Well, we won, I know that much. We came back here, I think we kissed? And then I guess did some other stuff too, judging by how your sweatpants are on the tv.” He answers, handing Cody a glass of water. 

“Oh, well what time do we have to get back on the plane back to LA?” Cody asks, setting his empty glass of water on the nightstand. 

“I think around one? Why you askin’?” Chris asks, setting down his empty glass. Cody leans over, smiling up at Chris. 

“Oh, just because,” Cody says, leaning in to kiss Chris again and again.


End file.
